


The cats of Kirkwall

by itzteegan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cats, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I promise, M/M, only a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 19:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: In which Anders has aslightcat obsession and Hawke is just a little exasperated ...





	The cats of Kirkwall

Gabriel Hawke bit back a sigh, trying his damnedest not to give in to the eye roll he felt coming as he saw Anders entering the house, something small and furry in his arms that he had undoubtedly acquired at some point between his clinic and the Amell estate.

He didn’t have anything against cats. He was a bit more biased toward dogs, of course – mainly because he’d had Ser Barker since the dog was a pup – but he had a general liking of animals, with a distaste only towards those who wanted to kill him. Which, seemed perfectly logical to him. But Anders … he just had this particular _obsession_ with cats. He’d never admit it himself, always excuse it as a, “Well, they’re just helpless creatures that I’m trying to help. I’m a healer, it’s only natural.” But that excuse only went so far, until at one point, Gabriel awoke one morning and realised he had no idea how many cats were prowling around the estate. There were five that he counted in the bed with him (Anders had already left for the clinic), two were snuggled up on top of the wardrobe, another two or three (he couldn’t quite tell, their fur all blended together) on the bench at the end of the bed, and one darted between his feet from under the bed as he moved to get up. He’d spotted a few here and there, lounging as he made his way to the privvy, and when he went to the kitchen to grab a spot of breakfast, there was a group of four sitting there, meowing for food (even with the food Anders had left out for them, out of reach from Ser Barker), and Gabriel couldn’t tell if they were all separate from the ones he’d seen before or if they were all new.

So when Anders walked in with a decidedly new acquisition, Gabriel was … less than thrilled.

And Anders could tell.

As soon as they made eye contact, the healer stopped in his tracks. “What?” he asked, as innocent as possible as he held _yet another_ cat in his arms. A small kitten this time, from the looks of it, scrawny and pitiful.

“Really, Anders? _Another_ one?”

He was seemingly prepared for Gabriel’s less than enthusiastic welcome, as he immediately launched into, “It’s mother and the rest of its litter was gone before I found him. If I didn’t take him in, he would have joined them.”

Oh that was just low down and dirty. Just what was Gabriel supposed to say to that? Anything less than acceptance would make him out to be a heartless monster. Which, he _wasn’t_ , but … it seemed every cat he brought home had a sob story and Gabriel was beginning to fear that there was no end in sight. He may have been Champion of Kirkwall, but did he have to be host to all of the stray cats as well? “And that’s all very fine and good, Anders, but _every_ kitten has just lost its mother or is starving or is hurt. We can’t take them _all_ in.”

“We can take _some_ in,” he protested.

Gabriel bit his tongue, trying not to lose his patience. Anders’ compassion, even in the face of arrest by Templars, was one of the things that had drawn him to the healer. They were both mages, both apostates, and yet while Gabriel tended to keep his magic use low key – at least, until he was Champion, and then it didn’t really matter that much – Anders continued to keep his clinic open and running, despite the threat of growing Templar power that could not only put him out of business but see him dragged back to the Circle and, with the attitude of the Kirkwall Templars, made Tranquil. That was a prospect that made a shudder run down Gabriel’s spine, partly because it was a fate he wouldn’t wish on anyone, and partly because if that were to happen, he was honestly unsure if he’d be able to get to Anders in time. Willing to fight his way through dozens, if not hundreds, of Templars for him? Oh yes, definitely willing, no doubt about it. But whether or not he would be able to reach him before they completed the rite, that he could not say, and that possibility that he would be too late, that he would find the man he loved irrevocably changed, that he himself would have to strike that fatal blow, knowing it would be what Anders would want … it was Gabriel Hawke’s deepest, darkest fear.

So, in spite of everything, he allowed Anders much more leeway than he would others. Even so, the amount of cats they were racking up was getting to be ridiculous. Leaning forward in the kitchen chair, elbows on his knees, Gabriel’s eyes softened as he faced his lover. “I’m sorry the Grey Wardens made you give away your cat, and if I could, I would find him and return him to you in a heart beat. But I can’t, and all these cats are never going to replace the one you lost.”

What he said struck a chord in Anders, and his face fell as he cuddled the small kitten in his arms. It was the root of his obsession, they both knew it, and even if Anders _didn’t_ want to admit to it, it didn’t change facts. When they’d first met, he’d been leaving milk and little bits of food out for them, unable to take them in due to space. But once he’d moved into Gabriel’s estate, he’d slowly started bringing them in, one by one until there was a veritable army of the buggers running around, catching vermin, playing with Ser Barker (at least the old dog was getting exercise?), and leaving cat hair _everywhere_. The healer sighed as he spoke up at last, his voice soft, “I just miss him. My friend said he … he ran away. Probably missed me, wanted to try to find me.” He shook his head, his eyes glistening as they misted over. “Poor cat, he can’t get to me, even if he tried. And it kills me a little inside, thinking of him out there, in the cold, alone and afraid and wanting me and unable to find me. I just wonder about him, if he’s alright, if he’s moved on ...”

Gabriel stood and walked over to his lover, setting one hand on his shoulder and the other hand on the kitten in his arms. “Ser Pounce-a-lot was a smart cat, from what you’ve told me. I’m sure he’s done quite well by himself. Probably amassed a harem and taken over a small city by this point.” Anders snorted, chuckling at the idea, but nodding all the same. “I know you don’t want to, but the healthy ones … maybe we should consider giving some of them away. Not to just anyone, of course, but maybe to some who would love and appreciate them? Give them more individual attention than they could ever get here. What do you say? I know Arianni, for one, has been lonely since Feynriel went to Tevinter. She might like a companion cat – or two or three – to keep her company.”

Sighing, Anders saw the wisdom in that and nodded. “I suppose there wouldn’t be any harm in that.”

Clapping him on the shoulder, Gabriel exclaimed, “See? You can still help the cats, the cats get safe homes, and the people get companionship that they’ve been lacking. It’s a win all the way around, something that’s hard to come by these days.”

Anders nodded, acquiescing to the proposal, when suddenly his eyes flashed. “Aside from the sick ones, can we keep some around?” When Gabriel looked hesitant to agree, Anders brought up, “Ser Barker has fun playing with them, they help keep him young even in his old age, and they keep the vermin out.”

And how could Gabriel say no? “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to keep a _few_ around ...”

That was all that he needed to say, as that little bit of give forced open the floodgates of hope for Anders and the healer excitedly kissed him, grinning like a madman when he pulled away. “Thank you, Gabriel, you won’t regret this,” he promised, hurrying himself into the manor to tend to his feline charges, the way he worded it making Gabriel wonder if he’d perhaps made a mistake.

“I said a _few_ , Anders! A _few_!” he called after him, trying to emphasise the specification.

“Of course!” he replied, his voice already distant and slightly sing-song, an indication that he was in the middle of a cat pile and occupied already. Templars could be knocking down the door and Anders wouldn’t have minded, completely taken with his charges.

Groaning, Gabriel wondered briefly, _What have I done?_


End file.
